


Emily’s Christmas Story

by GWhite



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Fluffy Gooey Sweetness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 08:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22007722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GWhite/pseuds/GWhite
Summary: Prompt from Jack and Sam Shipmas 2019: Sam watches Jack read a bedtime story to their child. There may also be a wee bit of mistletoe
Relationships: Original Characters - Relationship, Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	Emily’s Christmas Story

**Author's Note:**

> Jack and Sam just wouldn’t go where I wanted them to. This is the story they demanded. It’s a little (maybe a lot) in the future, so AU.
> 
> Full of fluff and gooey sweetness
> 
> Please forgive typos, etc. I don’t have a beta.
> 
> Wish they were mine but they aren’t.

Emily’s Christmas Story

Sam Carter-O’Neill hurried down the short hallway, her bare feet making little noise on the scraped wooden floor. When she reached the arched doorway into the large, open family room, she stopped suddenly, raising one hand to signal “Freeze” to the tall, brown-haired man walking directly behind her, barely giving him enough time to stop before he plowed into her back. He wasn’t surprised to see her flash “listen” next. It wasn’t his first rodeo at the O’Neill homestead, where his own SGC training had already served him well.

Sam stood still, silently taking in with relief the tableau in front of the fireplace. They weren’t too late to hear it from the beginning. She turned and grinned at the man behind her, then settled against the doorway to watch the show. She wasn’t surprised when he pulled his cell from a pocket in his chinos and started recording.

Jack was stretched out in his recliner, one arm raised, holding open a book of children’s Christmas stories with the long fingers of his hand. The other arm gently cradled Emily’s long, three-year old body which was stretched out precariously along his chest. 

Sam blinked her damp eyes, but gave up and wiped them with one surreptitious stroke. There was a time when she would have laughed if anyone had told her Jack O’Neill, wearing Homer Simpson pajamas, would be sitting in her family room, holding a little girl, reading Christmas stories by the light of a fire and a brightly lit Christmas tree. She never would have believed this would become a family tradition, or that these moments reading to a child would be the ones he looked forward to the most at Christmas.

Emily looked up at Jack’s lined face and snuggled as close as she could under his chin, working her head just a bit to one side. He grinned down at her. Message sent and received. No more dilly dallying. It was time to read.

_‘‘Twas the night before Christmas….”_

Sam let the familiar words wash over her, not really hearing them individually, just listening to the familiar sound and rhythm of his voice.

“ _When all of a sudden….”_

Yes, there had been a lot of “sudden” between them. You couldn’t be in a front-line team like SG1 and not expect to have things go sideways occasionally. Well, maybe more than occasionally.

“ _…a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.”_

Well, she thought, miniaturization hadn’t ever happened to them, but out-of-phase and alternate realities weren’t unheard of, or alien jails, ships, maybe a beating or two, some alien torture and arm bands and force fields. She winced at the memory of being forced to reveal their feelings to prove they weren’t Za’tarcs.

“ _More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came_ …”

Yes, she nodded to herself. There’d been flying, too. The old F302s has really been fun to fly, and they’d used them to save their collective asses, and earth, more than once. The F302G, though. Those were something else. She really, really wanted to put one of them through its paces.

“ _His eyes, how they twinkled, his dimples how merry...”_

Her thoughts turned to George Hammond. She missed him; he’d been one of her dad’s oldest friends, and a part of her life since she was little. She knew Jack missed him, too, even though he didn’t say it. To Jack he was more than a commanding officer, he was a mentor, a counselor, a father figure, but most of all he was a friend, and Jack both loved and respected him. His death had been so sudden, so unexpected.

Jack. Her husband, lover, father of their daughter, General (three stars, too; she shook her head at his disbelief he was worthy) the man who’d held earth’s fate in his weapon-calloused hands. Now those strong, capable hands gently held little Emily, one softly, unconsciously, caressing her back as he read.

He paused to drop a gentle kiss on Emily’s head.

“ _And I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,_

 _Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night._ ”

He closed the book and placed it to the floor. He cuddled the sleeping toddler with both arms, one hand cupped behind the little head, fingers pushed into curly baby hair, breathing in her strawberry bubble bath and shampoo scent. 

“I heard you at the door,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Sam replied, coming in and standing next to his chair. “She’s asleep.”

“I know.”

Sam gently cupped her hand over Jack’s on the back of Emily’s head, dropping a light kiss on her pudgy cheek. She leaned in just enough to brush her lips across Jack’s. “Listening to you read is the best part of Christmas,” she said, then she lifted the sleeping child so he could stand.

The young woman who’d been sitting in the other side of Jack’s chair stood in one smooth motion, wrapped her arms around his waist, and dropped her head on his shoulder. “I know it’s the best part of my Christmas, Daddy.”

“Well,” Jack said, “my three girls are the best part of mine. Now, give me a kiss, Gracie,” he said, turning a cheek towards her. “Tell your mom good night, then go put my granddaughter to bed.”

As Sam handed Emily to Gracie, she didn’t miss the look her daughter exchanged with her husband. Tom waggled his cell to let her know he had it all on video. Gracie wanted to be sure they had a recording of Jack reading to Emily. After all, Jack was over 80 now. Sam shoved those thoughts back down to the room they’d sneaked out of. Jack might be older, but his health was good, and his mind was as sharp as ever, even if he did still play the clueless old soldier. He would tell Gracie he was an old man, but she just laughed and told him he wasn’t old until he was three digits. Sam had a suspicion that Jack’s good health (and good knees, though he wouldn’t admit it) had something to do with the time he’d spent in Thor’s ship, thawing out and being healed from the time he’d spent in suspended animation in Antarctica.

Gracie kissed Sam’s cheek and winked. “Night, Mom,” she said, heading toward Gracie’s bedroom with Tom following, one hand lightly touching the small of her back.

Jack down on the couch, pulling Sam with him. He put an arm over her shoulder as he raised his stocking feet to the coffee table. He sighed happily as she snuggled up, head on his chest, just where she could hear his heart beat.

“There’s only one thing more...,” he began

“I know.”

“You do.”

“I do.”

“Nope, that’s not it. Did that already,” he said, and was rewarded with a giggle. “No giggling.”

“Yes, Sir.” She buried her face in chest, not really trying to stifle another giggle.

“Sam,” his voice now had a somber tone. He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “They’ll all be here for New Year’s?” he asked.

Sam smiled. “Yes, all of them.” She sat up and put her hands in her husband’s shoulders. “Does that mean your’re happy they’re coming, or that you dread having your home full of people?”

“What do you think?”

“That you are secretly looking forward to seeing them, but would rather rot in a goa’uld prison than admit it?”

Jack groaned, but the corner of his mouth twitched, and Sam smiled. He could be as grumpy as he wanted, but she knew he looked forward to seeing them all. It had been a lot longer than it should have been since they’d been together – the old SG1 and the next iteration with Cam and Vala. And now the even newer one, which included their son-in-law.

Sam almost snickered, thinking how Gracie had sprung her relationship with Tom on them ( _“Hi, Mom, Dad. This is Tom. We’re dating.”.)_ Tom hadn’t had a clue that she hadn’t told them about him. Sam wished she had a picture of Jack’s face when he realized the age difference between the two was at least ten years. He couldn’t say a word to the man about “robbing the cradle” because of their own age difference, but Sam suspected he hadn’t kept his concern about Gracie’s age from Tom. He had another concern; Tom was career Air Force and just received orders to the SGC. It wasn’t long, though, before they presented Jack and Sam with a _fait accompli_ by marrying without telling them (they were concerned Jack would be wildly upset because Gracie was just 20 and they’d been right – it was a rough several months). Both her parents had been greatly relieved when, with Tom’s support, and even with a pregnancy and nowadays toddler, Gracie had still finished her Master’s, and had almost completed her doctorate in astrophysics. Sam kept the thought to herself that it was a good thing Jack was such as sucker for kids, or Tom would have been a dead man.

Sam touched her forehead to Jack’s. “It’s getting late,” she said, her breath catching as he dropped a well-placed kiss along her neck.

“The kids are all tucked in, with sugar plums, right?” he asked, tracing her jaw with his lips.

“Mmmmm,” she answered.

“I love you, Samantha Carter-O’Neill.”

“I love you, too, “Jack” O’Neill,” Sam said, kissing him lightly. “But, bedtime, unless you want to help play Santa.” She stood and offered her hand.

“Bedtime or Santa…” he said, drawing out the words, but taking the hand she offered. They strolled toward the hallway side by side, arms around each other’s waist. Jack stopped in the archway and pointed up. “Your idea?” He asked, seeing the sprig of mistletoe suspended there.

“Maybe.”

Jack turned her to face him and pulled her close. Lowering his head, he brushed his lips across hers, touching them with the tip of his tongue. Her arms went around his neck and she stepped closer as he deepened their kiss. Sam’s last coherent thought was “Thank you, Thor.”

“Mom! Dad! Holy Hannah! You’ve got a room, for goodness sakes! Use it!” Gracie laughed from the hallway.

“I intend to,” Jack whispered in Sam’s ear. 

**Author's Note:**

> Excerpts from “Twas the Night Before Christmas” by Clement Clarke Moore. No copyright infringement intended


End file.
